Reunion
by LovelyTomorrow
Summary: Buffy comes to Los Angeles to talk with Angelus about old times.
1. Changed

Title: Reunion

Summary: Buffy comes to chat about old times with Angelus.

Time Period: Angel Season Four-During the Angelus period

Distribution: Please.

Feedback: Please.

Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine. Mr. Whedon's.

AN: I tried to write this so that you get what's happening as you read. I'm just gonna tell you, this does not follow Buffy Season Two cannon.

"You're in a big cage."

Buffy stood at the top of the stairs and looked down at him, smirking. When she had heard of the "Great Angelus" being locked up by a group of make-shift detectives, she knew she couldn't stay away.

"That's new," she quipped and stepped down the staircase, moving closer to him.

"You came," he matched her smirk. His arms were crossed over his chest. He stood at the center of his cell, unmoving, like a statue.

"You knew I would." She reached up and turned off the surveillance camera that the Angel Investigations team had set up. At this, he narrowed his eyes with pleasure.

"What've you been up to?" he played it calm, just as he always did.

She moved to the bottom of the stairs and gave a teasing shrug, "Wouldn't you like to know."

"I hope, for your sake, that you've behaved," he warned.

She smiled, "Yeah, something about the large, iron bars sort of takes some of your sting away…" She walked up to the previously mentioned bars, pressing her entire person to them. "…love."

"Won't be in here forever," he made his way to her, slowly.

"No?" He was close enough for her to inhale his scent- a scent she had craved and missed for four long years.

"Nope," he smirked down at her, grabbing onto the bars of his cell from the inside.

"Someone gonna let you out? Cordelia, maybe? Wesley?"

"You," he spoke firmly but gently-a talent only he could accomplish perfectly.

"Me?" she put a hand to her chest in mock-surprise. "Oh, but, Angelus, I couldn't." She took the other hand off of the cage moved behind the white safety line--out of his reach. "That would be wrong. You are an evil, evil man, and letting you out of that cage could result in murder and mayhem!"

"Not in the mood to play, little girl." He eyed her up and down. She had matured. Her hair was up, away from her face. She wore black heels and a low black top. He did that math in his head; she was twenty-two. A woman.

"Who's playing? I'm still the Slayer, lovely; I can't be unleashing the Scourge of Europe on an innocent populous."

"Then why'd you come?" he shot quickly, wanting to throw her off guard.

"I was asked to come," she shot back even quicker. "Team Angel said you were asking for me--said you were denying them information that they need and that you wouldn't give it to them unless I came and talked to you."

For a moment he was silenced. The game had changed from before. Before, he had been the predator, and she had been the willing prey. Now, however, they were both hunters, not wanting to be dominated by each other.

"What's wrong, baby?" Buffy smiled viciously, "Not the answer you were expecting?" She turned her back to him. "Would you have rather me said that I…_felt you_, Angelus? That…the moment you lost your soul I could sense it from Sunnydale and came running over here for a good spanking?" She faced him again. His expression was unchanged, emotionless. Hers was cold but always vulnerable. "Sorry, puppy, not quite."

"Why'd you turn the camera off, Buff?" he through her name out effortlessly.

She was stopped by that. They both knew why she had turned the camera off. No one knew of the affair that had taken place between them five years ago. No one knew that Buffy wasn't who she said she was. No one knew she loved an evil being who held the face of the man who loved her. She still played the part of the good little girl who could never love evil, and he still played the part of the monster who could never love at all.

"I wanted to talk to you." Her defenses and sarcasm crumbled as she willed them to stay strong.

"You want information?" he played dumb, loving the knowledge that her emotions were in total bedlam.

She took a deep breathe and forced herself to stay strong. She noticed a chair by the stairs and pulled it out in front of the cage. Sitting down she spoke, "I want to talk to you. I want to kiss you. I want you to fuck me. I want to let you out. I want to live with you. I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to play with your hair while you sleep. I want to feel your hands on my skin. I want to make you laugh. I want to make you proud. I want a lot of things, Angelus, but, for right now, I think we should just stick to the talking."

None of what she had said surprised him at all, for her knew everything about her. But he smiled and moved to the edge of the cage, placing his face between the bars. "You've changed," he accused.

Buffy sighed. "I have," she agreed.

"Grown up," Angelus narrowed his eyes.

She nodded, thinking of all she had been through since she had seen him last.

"I like it." His voice was dark; his gaze was dangerous.

"Do you? Are you sure you don't prefer the amenable, subservient virgin?"

"Nah, I love a challenge."

She smiled, "Oh, but you do."

**I'd love to write more. Like say, what they talk about…but only if people wanna hear about it. Review if you want more!**


	2. He Couldn't

Chapter Two, thanks for waiting. Hope you like it.

"Again?" He rose an eyebrow ever so slightly, enough to hint at surprise but not show it. Angelus had mastered the art of subtlety. 

"Again." She nodded once, her arms crossed over her body and her legs crossed, left over right. Her body was closed to him. They both understood. 

"Getting' rusty, Slayer?" They found themselves in actual conversation, discussing the last few years--adventures seen on both accounts, romances that would have been if not for theirs. 

"Wasn't like that. I did it, myself." Buffy stood, almost proud. She could have guessed that he wouldn't have expected that a Slayer would take her own life. 

"You killed yourself?" he asked, amused.

"Technically." 

"Why?"

"Tired of living," she sighed playfully.

"And…?" his voice urged on.

She turned away from him and smiled, "It saved the world."

"Ah, of course," he smiled as well. "And then, what? God decided that it wasn't your time?"

"Nope. Willow brought me back."

"Willow? She's got that much power, now?"

"That and more."

"Impressive." 

"Yeah…" She smirked, "Oh, and while we're speaking of Willow; you were right about her."

"Lesbian?" 

"Yep."

"Told you so," he nodded.

"That you did," she nodded.

"How 'bout you?" He lifted his head and showed the elegant downward slant of his powerful neck. His chin was accented by his perfect smirk. 

She almost blushed at his question, feeling playful and comfortable. "Nope, still straight as a pin." 

"Never even tried it?" He made his way over to the bars of his prison and held his hands above his head, wrapping his fingers around the bars tightly. 

"Nope." 

"She ever ask you?"

"No." 

"Would you if she did?"

She smiled as he did. They were having fun. "Angelus."

"Fine, fine. Just trying to establish a visual, is all. You know, something to keep me company in my big, lonely cage." There was a hint of a pout on the Scourge's lips. 

"Oh, you poor baby."

"So, Buff, what have you been up to in the sex department?" It was a sword of a question. Angelus had strict rules about Buffy's body and who was allowed to touch it. So far, the list had accumulated one name--his.

Buffy touched the tip of her tongue to her top lip and smirked coyly. "I've taken to selling my body on street corners," she said seriously.

Knowing that she was kidding, he crossed his arms over his chest and feigned interest. "Really."

"Mm-hmm," she nodded. "I get mostly demon clients. It's peculiar. I think they can smell you on me. Gets 'em all hot." She over articulated her last words, and placed a hand seductively on her thigh. 

"Fascinating." Angelus was unmoved, "Now, the truth."

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, "Your grandson tried to rape me."

"Did he?" Somewhat surprised, but never showing it, Angelus turned his back to Buffy and paced in his cell.

"Yep," Buffy continued on, taking an air of simplicity. "In my bathroom. See, he's got this idea that I'm madly in love with him but won't admit it."

"What? Why?" his brow furrowed, not liking the thought of Buffy being in love with his Childe.

"Because he's madly in love with me." She stopped, not liking the feeling she was getting--as if she shouldn't be talking about Spike in front of Angelus--as if it was a secret. She wanted to bring back the sense of fun they were having. She smirked, "Angelus, you're pacing like a crazy person."

"Did you touch him?" he was rough, commanding.

"No," she gave him quickly, pleading with her heart that she would sound honest.

"Did he touch you?" his eyes were fires.

"He's tried." Buffy was afraid of him, despite the bars that held him. He wouldn't be in there forever, and then he would be back. For the first time, the realization hit her. _Is that what she wanted_? Did she want to be back under his thumb? Submitting to his every whim? Obedient to his sick pleasure?

Angelus stopped pacing, seeing her, heavy in thought. "Buffy..." he called gently. She looked up at him, not knowing what to think, let alone say. "Did he hurt you?"

She sighed and smiled, "No. He couldn't." Spike wasn't strong enough to hurt her. After all, she was the vampire slayer. It wouldn't be right if a single vampire could overpower her so easily.

"Good." He wanted to rip her throat out. She was second guessing herself. She always did. Shaking his head, he smirked at her. She hadn't changed at all.

"Buffy?" The cavalry knocked on the basement door. Wesley sounded genuinely concerned. The rest of them chattered behind him about how she might be mutilated by now.

Buffy sighed, "What's wrong, Wesley?"

"Buffy, are you all right?" Wesley asked, good naturedly.

"Get the door open!" Connor grunted before a loud thud was heard. Then the door opened and, they all came barging in, weapons in hand. Seeing Angelus locked in his cage and Buffy standing a good distance away from him, they froze.

Cordelia rolled her eyes, "I told you she was fine." With that, she left. Connor looked disappointed, and Angelus smirked as he left, following Cordelia.

"Buffy," Wesley stammered, "We-- We were worried. The camera--"

"It's turned off," Fred observed, pushing the power button on the recording device. "I guess someone hit it or somethin'."

Buffy shrugged, "I guess so."

"Hmm," Angelus hummed, "Isn't that the strangest thing?"

Gunn, who had been silent through the encounter, turned to Fred, "Come on, let's go. Nothing to see, here."

"Nope," Angelus commented, "Nothing at all."

The couple left, but Wesley loomed at the top of the stairs, still unsure. "Are--Are you done here, Buffy?"

She looked at her caged lover for a lingering moment, and wanted to be far away from him. "Yeah," her voice was low and quiet, "I think we're done for today."

The Watcher nodded as the Slayer ascended the staircase carefully, as if she might fall off.

"Goodnight, Buffy. Thanks so much for coming," Angelus called out politely to the young girl, and then door closed behind them. Then he leaned against the back of his cage and smirked his old smirk. The Scourge of Europe had regained his power.

Please review, because I love you!


	3. My Hero

A/N: The first chapter of the Buffy/Angelus story to not feature Angelus. Don't worry, he's back in the next one.

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The night was silent and deadly, but the Slayer was used to it. Without the sun's reflection, the moon had no light to offer, and Los Angeles was pitch black. Being practically blinded, Buffy's other senses filled in where they could. She could hear footsteps across the street and glass braking down the block. She gripped her stake tightly and silently prayed that she would make it through the night.

No one knew that she had decided to brave the dark city. It was very late. Every sane person was bundled up in a warm bed, pretending that the sun would rise in the morning. Buffy had never felt so unprepared for a patrol before in her life. The vampires that surrounded her, who she could sense with every part of her being, had a distinct advantage over her. They could see her, but she couldn't see them.

She didn't really know what had made her decide to leave the comfort of the Hyperion, but she had woken up in a cold sweat, needing to be away from the hotel. There was an uneasy air in Angel Investigations, and it wasn't all coming from the monster locked in the cage. Cordelia was suspiciously angry, and Wesley was incomprehensibly dark. The others, who Buffy didn't really know, were upset, too. Everyone was on edge, so she had left to face the impossible odds of the city.

For a fraction of a second, she considered stopping in to talk to Angelus just a bit more, but decided firmly against it. She felt his power over her. She had smelled him again; she had tried to hold a wall up to his predicable arrogance and failed. She needed to fight something, and she needed to win.

"Smell that?"

Buffy tensed and tried to figure out where the voice was coming from. It sounded far away.

"Slayer," another voice laughed. "What's she doing all the way out here?"

"Just looking for a little change," Buffy attempted an unthreatened tone. "Happy to see me?"

One of them laughed, "She's such an idiot. She can't see a thing."

She swallowed hard, "You don't know that."

A strong hand wrapped itself around her neck and held her up in the air. The motion was swift and unstoppable by the clueless Slayer. With the strength given to her by fate, she pulled on the corpse's arm. It budged enough to get her neck free, but caused her to drop her stake—not a fantastic situation.

"Ooo," a third vampire entered the party, "Nice one."

"Shh," one of them warned. Buffy swallowed hard. "Don't talk." Buffy swallowed harder.

Buffy, the vampire Slayer, had not run from a fight in a very long time. She took what was given to her and dealt with it, damn the costs—whatever the costs. But Buffy the human being had a fight or flight instinct ready to be triggered, and Buffy knew what it would tell her to do—fly.

She could feel them moving around her. There were at least three, which were not great odds as it were, not to mention the fact that she was blind and unarmed. She was breathing heavily, making it very easy for her opponents to sense her weakness.

There was still the option of running. She had grown up in this city and knew it pretty well. However, even with Slayer speed, there was a good chance the vampires would catch up to her after a few moments.

She was almost impressed at the vampires' restraint, as she would have found it terribly difficult not to mock the victim of a similar situation if it had been her standing firmly on the higher ground. However, they remained silent, no taunting, no snickering, not even a little giggling. Nothing to tell Buffy where they could be.

"Hey, you," a young voice broke through the black, and Buffy could not distinguish the face behind it. "Don't bother with her."

The vampires stayed silent. Buffy wanted to ask whom this mysterious stranger was, but feared for her life too much to be that curious.

"She's just a Slayer," the voice continued nonchalantly. Buffy tried not to be offended as the voice was most likely only trying to save hr life. Still, though, she had rarely heard the words "just" and "slayer" spoken in the same sentence. "Why don't you try a little something," the voice chuckled, "Wilder?"

"All right, kid," a female vampire teased the voice. "You think you can handle us, be my guest. It's been too long since a human came to _us_ for a fight." The other vampires around her snickered and clicked their tongues, as if calling a bull. Buffy had heard enough. She could distinguish that there were four vampires standing between her and the voice, and found it hard to imagine that more than that would run in a pack together.

"A human should never rush into a fight with the undead scum of the earth," the voice was cocky and strong. He was comfortable, in his element. "Wouldn't be very smart."

The Slayer took their conversing as an opportunity to move a fraction of an inch, but that was apparently too much. "Buffy, behind you," the voice warned, quickly, and Buffy took the head's up to heart. With all her strength, she flung her right leg behind her, high in the air and kicked the vampire that had approached her from behind square in the head. "Here," the voice threw her a stake in the darkness that she caught from sheer reflexes.

The battle was on. Of course, Buffy still had no idea what her faceless savior looked like or why he knew what vampires were, or how he could see in the dark, or knew that she was the Slayer and named Buffy, no less. But all that logic seemed to crumble away as the two of them took out the vampires that surrounded them. Buffy did the very best she could, but her mystery-man handled the bulk of the fight. As she felt the last bit of vampire dusk being blown past her face in the night air, she tried to see whom the owner of the voice was. "Buffy," it approached her, coming close, "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine," she finally spoke, sighing. "Thank you for that. I don't…it's been a long time since I needed someone else to fight my battles for me." She nodded, feeling comforted that she couldn't see his face. A tear formed in her eye, as if she had suddenly realized what had just happened.

"We should get back to the hotel," the voice told her, sounding suddenly very much like a teenager. "The others will get worried if they find out you're gone."

"Hotel?" Buffy narrowed her eyes. "I…do I know you?"

"Uh, kind of," he waited, "I'm, uh, Connor?"

Buffy almost died. Right there in the middle of the pitch-black streets of Los Angeles, she had been saved by her ex's offspring. She almost started looking for a rock to hide under, but Connor was impatient and did not wait for her to recognize him.

"Come on," he demanded, his voice softer, he was moving away. Buffy followed the sound of Connor's voice and movements. He walked like a fighter. He held a weapon in both hands, but it didn't seem to faze him. _He must be used to holding weapons._

She hadn't been told much about Connor, only that he was Darla and Angel's son and had recently grown up in Hell. If she ever saw Angel again, there would certainly be a conversation. However, that was becoming a bigger 'if' since Buffy had seen Angelus again.

They reached the hotel safely, and Connor mumbled something that sounded vaguely like goodnight before pounding up the stairs to his bedroom. Buffy wasn't tired, and the hotel was deserted. She was shaken from what happened. She had wanted to fight and win, but she had failed horribly.

There was no one at Angel Investigations who was quite up to talking. Cordelia and Wesley were strangers: Cordelia, with her strange desire to spend every waking moment with Connor, and Welsey, with his strange desire to spend every waking moment away from everyone.

Just like before, Angelus was the only one who wanted to be near her. He was the only one who really knew her. He was the only one who cared at all.

_That's not true_. The pesky conscious in her head kept telling her. She had someone at home who would love her until doomsday if she asked him to.

She looked at the little television that watched Angelus pace in his prison. He was awake and alert. They needed to talk.

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Thanks for reading. Care to review???


	4. Dare

A/N: Kay, so here's where I give you a bit more insight into what happened all those years ago when Angelus was in old Sunnydale. Things were not quite as vanilla as we're used to seeing from Buffy. Read on...

Warning: Adult content and language ahead.

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"I slept with Spike," she spoke with a composure that struck him off guard. He thought he'd gotten rid of the grown up Buffy. "I slept with Spike lots of times. I needed to be touched. He was more than willing. I used him shamelessly, broke it off. He tried to rape me, failed, then went off to Africa and brought back a soul." He didn't look fazed. She held her head high, "Truth." 

It took him a few moments to respond. He didn't want to loose his temper. He couldn't. Not without calling down the white hats with the big, bad guns that made him sleepy. Anger was an emotion only accessible to the free. His gaze was dangerous, "Come closer." He could play her little game. That was fine. A man is nothing if he cannot accept a challenge. "Dare."

She came closer, inside the yellow danger zone. He could touch her if he wanted. "You want to hurt me. Truth."

He gave a slow nod and came to the edge of the cage. Their bodies touched. It had been too long. She still fit perfectly against him. Her breath smelled clean and cool. "Let me," he whispered directly into her ear, his face mere centimeters from the bare skin of her neck. "Dare."

She took his face and kissed him on the lips. His lips were soft, unused, like new. Hers were too strong, like she was used to fighting. She hadn't used to have that. "Hurt me," she practically begged. The pretty girl wanted to be punished for her sin. "Dare," her whisper was a dagger through the gut.

Angelus slowly grabbed her forearms, taking the opportunity to remember how small they felt underneath his massive hands. It was unbelievable to think of how much power was stored in those little arms. But all that power was forgotten, because Buffy had been a bad girl. He jerked her back forth, ramming her body into the bars of his cell. It wouldn't leave any physical marks on her, but would certainly sting. She smiled when he released her. He kept his head dipped and facing her. "We're really not playing correctly," he noted with a smirk.

She grabbed his collar and brought his face to hers, "Do we ever?"

"No more words," he demanded and reached for the buttons of her blouse. She watched as he knelt down before her and skillfully undid the top half of her shirt, revealing the black, lace bra she had on underneath. He looked up at her, snarling, "You're a whore." It was a name he'd called her millions of times. It was casual, normal, expected, even.

She ran a hand through his silky brown hair and laughed dangerously, "Whore's a word."

Sex was clearly impossible with Angelus behind bars, but they both stood before each other, nothing covering them, exposed. There was nothing terribly new about either of their bodies. Buffy had gotten a bit thinner; Angelus had gotten a bit thicker, but nothing too drastic. They were able to kiss, and they were able to touch. They both came, first him, then her.

"You'll be punished later," Angelus threw over to her as they both put their clothes back on. "Quite a bit. Fucking my childe is no small transgression."

She was in a familiar daze. His fingers had sung to her--hypnotized her will to bend to his. Coherent thought was never easy after time with Angelus. She nodded at this and began moving upstairs.

This was not what she had thought would happen. She had thought he would have gotten angry, furious. She had thought he would have threatened to kill her. She had thought she could have gotten him to be ugly. She was wrong. There was only treacherous beauty in his eyes.

She wanted him more than ever. She wanted him entirely. She wanted him free.

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To come? Buffy gets Angelus out...or at least she tries to. She's got some pretty tough opposition (see what the pointless chapter about Connor was for now, huh)

Review...tell me if u want Angelus out or not...and also if you like it so far...that'd be fine too.


	5. Been Hurt

Update! I bet you never thought you'd see the day...sorry for the slowfulness. It's not for lack of caring. More for lack of time. Applying to college is apparently this really complicated thing. Anyway, you don't care. Just know that within the next few months, I am anticipating a severe case of Senioritis, and while I am ill, I have a feeling the updates will come much, much faster. Oh, God love lazy high schoolers! Enjoy...

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"No, Will, they did a spell," Buffy tried to explain to her best friend for what felt like the fifth time. Ever since her rendezvous with Angelus, it was becoming harder and harder to be away from him for a significant amount of time. "They wanted to see if he had any information that Angel didn't." 

"Did he?" Willow asked on the other end of the line, back in Sunnydale, where things seemed grim, but at least they still had the sun.

"We don't know," she shrugged, not liking the reference to herself and Angel's group of detectives as one cohesive unit. "If he does, he's not talking."

"Then why are you still there?" It was a good, logical question. If she was there to make him talk and he wasn't talking with her there, she didn't have much of a purpose.

"Just helping out, you know," she said, knowing instantly that she should be back home. "I mean, he's talking a little, so they still need me here, but he's not saying anything imperative," she lied. "Yet."

"Oh, okay," Willow seemed to accept her words without question. After all, why would Buffy lie? "Well, everyone here says, 'Hi'."

"And I say, 'Hi,' back to them," Buffy shrugged, wanting to hang up.

"And, uh, if its okay with you," she swallowed nervously. "Spike wanted to talk to you."

"Is he there?" her words were too fast.

"No, he's in the kitchen, but he said if you called…"

Buffy didn't want to talk to Spike. On the very long list of people who she did not want to talk to, his name was glaringly at the very top, written firmly with a red Sharpie. "Put him on," she cringed.

"Okay, wait a sec," Willow said before the line was quiet for a moment. Buffy almost chewed her bottom lip completely off while waiting for Spike to speak to her. Connor loomed carefully towards the door, at first attaching his eyes firmly to the monitor, but then focusing them on Buffy. She could guess that he would be able to hear every word.

"Buffy?" Spike's voice was uncomfortable. They'd almost never spoken on the phone before. It felt indefinably strange. "You there?"

"Yeah, Spike. I'm here," she shot a glance toward the monitor to see if Angelus had heard the name, but he didn't move. "Uh, I don't really have a lot of time to talk. Is something wrong?"

"Oh, uh, no. Not really. Nothing's wrong," he didn't bother to hide the hurt in his voice. Although there was no surprise: Buffy very frequently did not have time for him. "Just…well, the bug thing…it worked. I'm, uh, not a puppet anymore."

She sighed, "That's great, Spike. It's, uh, good to have you in the fight."

"Yeah," he sighed. "So, how's it going in L.A…with the old sire?"

"Peachy," she pinched the skin between her eyes. "Fine. It's going fine." She was fairly certain that Spike, much more than any of the others, was aware of her previous involvement with Angelus. His vampire senses gave him insights to things he wished he could miss completely. The jealousy was eating away at him, and Buffy honestly tried to care. "I'm hoping to come home soon," she lied.

"Good," his tone brightened considerably. "That's really good, Buffy. Uh, Dawn, I think she's missing you quite a bit. She'll be happy to see you."

"Okay, well then, I should go. Try to finish things up here."

"Right. Right. Yeah. You should do that," he sounded like he wanted to say more, but didn't.

"All right, then. Bye, Spike," she sighed into the receiver.

"Buffy!" he sounded urgent but gentle. "Don't let him get inside your head, all right? He's good at that, getting in, changing things. Don't let him change you, okay, Buffy?"

The Slayer was speechless, with a mouth open but no words to go through it.

"Okay, then. That's all. Bye, Buffy," Spike hung up.

Buffy hung the phone up with a heavy head. Her heart told her to ignore Spike and be with Angelus. After all, it had been what she'd wanted for years, and now it was within her grasp. And yet, her mind was upset with her, as she finally had or could have a good man who loved her in Spike, and she was discarding him as the silver metal to a much brighter gold.

"What are you doing, Buffy?" she whispered to herself.

Connor shuffled a bit, unsure if she was talking to him. She had forgotten that he was there and straightened up, trying to be sane.

"Oh, hi, Connor," she smiled unevenly.

"Hey," he muttered, then looked to the monitor, as if he was obligated to be there.

"That was just, uh, my friends from home," she crossed her arms over her chest.

"From Sunnydale," he simply stated, although, to Buffy, it sounded almost like a correction.

"Yeah," she nodded.

"He has a point," he said almost to himself. "You can't let Angelus change you. He'll try to. He'll lie to you, make you see things differently."

"You know a lot about Angelus?" Buffy furrowed her brow, finding herself curious about the boy.

"My father taught me," he nodded.

"Angel told you about Angelus?" It hurt to say the other name, but Buffy swallowed the pain.

"Not him. Holtz. He raised me. Told me about all the things he's done. Told me who he really is," the hate was ill hidden.

"Connor," she sighed, the feeling of the name still new in her mouth, but becoming more familiar. "Angel isn't Angelus. They're two completely different entities. Neither one of them is the 'real' one. Your dad is Angel. He's the good guy. The father. Angelus is…well, not a father." She smiled a little smile.

"You love him," he almost spat. Buffy wasn't sure which 'him' he was referring to, and less sure about the answer to that question regarding any of the possibilities. "That's why you're here," he shook his head. "But you're a Slayer. You're not supposed to…"

"Connor," she was catching on. "It's not like that. It's just…hard. Your dad and I," she felt the familiar lie from years ago bubble up in her mouth. "Your dad and I shared something really special, so it's hard for me to separate the two. When I see him—Angelus, I mean—it's hard not to remember Angel."

"You can't kill him," he crossed his arms, as Giles had done years before when he came to the same conclusion.

"No," she closed her eyes and opened them, feigning emotion. "That's why that cage was a really good idea. Makes it easier for me."

The youth in Connor's face surfaced quickly. His eyes were wide with ignorance, but tried to decipher the tone of her voice. The situation was just above his head, but he couldn't see it. "What about that man on the phone?"

"Just a friend," Buffy said.

"He's a vampire, too," Connor scratched his head.

"Yeah," she sighed. "But he's got a soul."

"He likes you a lot," he said. "But he's been hurt."

An edge entered her voice, "So have I."

For the first time, he looked up at her—met her hazel eyes—then he looked away, and began pounding up the stairs. "I get that."

"Connor?" Cordelia's voice met him at the top of the stairs. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he muttered, and kept walking.

"Hey, Buffy," she came down slowly, as if she was carrying something very fragile.

"Hi, Cordy," Buffy sighed and turned to the monitor. Angelus was humming to himself. A husky, Irish lullaby that he'd once sung to Buffy after a long night. She'd had a test in four hours and was too wound up to get to sleep. He'd sung for an hour, before she was unconscious.

"What were you two talking about?" Cordelia stood next to Buffy, watching Angelus.

"Nothing much. He heard me talking to Willow, wondered who she was," she said, distracted.

"How is Willow? We haven't heard from her in a long time."

"She's fine," she shrugged.

"And, uh, how's Xander?" it sounded intangibly forced, as if she knew she had to ask, but really wanted to be doing something else.

"He's good," Buffy was in a trance watching him. His confidence continued to astound her. To know that people who hate you are watching and judging every move you make, and yet, to be so fluid and easy and natural—it was a magnificent talent, a stroke of brilliance.

"Good," Cordelia crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you okay, Buffy?"

Buffy tore her eyes away from the screen and forced herself to focus on Cordelia. Her eyes didn't have the concern she'd thought they would. They were suspicious, taunting, almost condescending. "I'm fine. It's just weird—seeing him like this—just, brings up some memories," the half-truth lay before them silently; both stood wondering about the other's intentions.

"Yeah," Cordelia sighed heavily and her eyes pierced the screen. At this, Angelus' head shot up to the camera. He looked confused for a mere moment, a phenomenon that only occurred in the very most peculiar of situations; then that clever smirk of intrigue crept onto his face, and Cordelia moved away. "Were you going to talk to him now?"

The blonde bit her lip, trying to make a complicated decision in a mere second. "I don't think so, no. Not tonight."

"Oh, okay. I think I might give it a little try," she shrugged, as if she was talking about testing out a new perfume. "See what I can get out of him."

"Good idea," the jealousy bubbled up under her skin, but she shook it off. There was no way Cordelia Chase could have any interest in a man like Angel, let alone Angelus. "Be careful."

"I will," Cordelia promised, smiling. "Goodnight, Buffy. Sleep well."

"Night," Buffy caught the tiny laugh Cordelia let out before closing the basement door behind her.

Buffy thought for a moment about turning the sound up on the monitor, so that she could hear everything that was said between the two, but then decided it would be better to simply go upstairs and sleep. But still, there was no denying that oddness existed in Cordelia's eyes that had never been there before. She was more demure, sophisticated, patient. It wasn't right. Buffy would have to keep her eye on that.

No doubt about it. There was something off about Cordelia.

* * *

AN: My, how perceptive Buffy is! So, for those of you who are confused, this is where Cordelia whores herself to Angelus for information, which, in itself, is a pretty significant plot twist. Only now, we're adding the powerful perspective of Buffy into the mix. Is there a chick fight in our midst? A three-way? Is Angelus getting out? Such good questions…answers on their way… 


	6. Heartbeats

AN: Hey, this episode was on TNT this morning! I've had this done for a little while, but since it's so short, I was waiting to post until I had more. But, then, I figured it was better than nothing. The next chapter is about half done...? But it's longer than this one. Anywho, enjoy...

* * *

Angelus had known many evil beings in his time. He'd seen devils, demons, monsters, murderers, rapists. and screaming toddlers. There wasn't much that surprised him, as he put a lot of time and energy into making sure that he was never caught off guard.

And so when he asked Cordelia Chase, the devoted housewife of Angel Investigations, what was a better ride than a Mustang, of course, in his brain, there were numerous images of women of the past and one particular woman of the present, but when he heard--'Me'--escape from her sweet-willed lips, it took him a good deal of energy to suppress his astonishment. It wasn't so much that she was offering him sex for information; prostitution had been around longer than he had, but that she had referred to such an act as a 'ride.' It wasn't something the squeaky clean or morally pious would think of in the same category of love making or spooning. It had taken him a very long time to get Buffy to such a level of polluted wit.

"You?" he asked, wavering just a bit. Instinctually, he scanned her body from heeled feet to bobbed hair. She was looked a little disheveled, fuller in the face, tired. And just barely, he could hear a tiny, little thumping. Almost like a heartbeat.

"That's the offer," she was too confident, not at all with the 'woe is me; my life is so hard I have to give my body to a demon for information', as he might have thought. "No more stalling; no more games. You tell us what you know; you get me."

He'd heard an extra heartbeat before, just before Cordelia had come down. At first, he could hear three distinctive heartbeats with three distinctive voices. There was Buffy, Connor, and Cordelia. Nothing out of the ordinary there. But then, as Connor left, he listened more closely to hear better what his girl and Angel's might have to discuss, and he found that there were still three distinctive heartbeats.

Angelus didn't mention the noise to the bribe in front of him but politely declined the offer, "Because I'm that desperate."

She shrugged, a little smirk playing on her glossed lips, "You _are _locked in a cage. Not doing wonders for your rep."

"Don't worry about me, Cordy," he mocked her named with too much emphasis. "I'm doing just fine."

"Right," she snickered, but seemed just a bit suspicious. "Well, then. Hope you're ready to get your soul back. This was pretty much a last ditch effort."

He smiled, "Or it would be, if you had the stones to let anyone know what you were doing."

There was a huff of a sound from Cordelia before she turned on her heel and left. Angelus shook his head at the closed door. It wasn't a huge jump to assume that the tiny little heartbeat was a tiny little person living deep inside the walls of Cordelia. And, oh, who the father must be! A smile slipped across his face before he was all chuckles and excitement.

Cordelia with child. Cordelia preggers. Knocked up. An unwed mother. It was priceless.

* * *

AN: Kay, so, next chapter, Buffy finds out about all the nasty, dirty sex going on in Angel Investigations and is more than a little shocked. Should be fun... 


	7. Respect You

AN: Hey, guys, here's that chapter I promised. I don't know why, but it didn't turn out to be comic like I'd thought. I guess sometimes a scene feels different when you actually go to write it then when it's being conceived in your head. Anyway, this story's an angst thing, so drama shouldn't upset anyone too much...

* * *

"No way."

"Yes way."

"That's ridiculous."

"Why would I make this up?"

"He's a kid."

"He's _my _kid. I'm aware."

Buffy paused at that. It was the first time she'd heard Angelus mention anything about Connor, and she didn't like the idea of him having a child with another. It was a ridiculous thought. Even Angel hadn't exactly hoped for a baby from his sexual exploits with Darla. Angelus certainly wasn't having any sentimental feelings towards his son.

"Buffy?" He narrowed his eyes at her, "You with me, Buff?"

Her mind jumped back to her dark companion, arms crossed over his head, gripping tightly onto the bars of his cell, face begging to be free. "Why would she do that?" Buffy's fingers absently traced her collarbone as she paced in thought.

"Which part?" he smiled.

"Both," she shrugged. She'd thought it was completely out of the question that Cordelia would have offered herself to Angelus for information, let alone sleep with Angel's son. There was definitely something up with her.

"Well, before your mind is totally blown," he smiled at her shock. She was still so surprised at the sins of humans. It was sweet. "There _is_ more."

Buffy turned away from him, upset, although she knew it to be illogical, "Does everyone know?" Her mouth turned up in a disgusted snarl. Angelus narrowed his eyes at his lady, apparently completely unaware of her hypocrisy.

"They do," he brought his hands down. "But that really isn't the exciting part, mon chere." He was eager to share his little discovery with the only person he could. He had thought she would have found Cordelia's sexual exploits humorous. If he'd known they would have sparked a brooding period in her, he would have simply ignored them.

"I don't want to know more," she shook her head. "I think something's going on."

"Buffy!" he was starting to loose his patience, which was never particularly acclaimed as his strength. "I think you're forgetting who's in charge here. I have something to tell you, whether or not you want to know it. So you will sit down and listen to what I have to say!"

"Lower your voice," she hissed. "You're gonna wake everyone up." It was almost three o'clock in the morning. Buffy had sat up in bed trying not to think about what had gone on between Angelus and Cordelia, eventually resolving to go downstairs and find out. Of course, now, she wished she'd gotten some sleep before her head was filled with so many new, disturbing images.

His voice got low, but not in the way Buffy was hoping. "That was not the correct response, little slayer," he said, dangerous and threatening.

"What?" she hissed, impatient and generally upset. They were both beginning to get very stressed. There was no more witty banter between the two. It was time for real business.

"She's pregnant," he over articulated.

"Oh, fuck you," she threw at him, shivering at the horror.

"Fuck you!" he repeated in snarling shock. "Oh, just wait until these bars disappear, Buff. I'll force feed you every syllable. I'm not in the mood for one of your feminist rebellions."

"This isn't a rebellion," she crossed her arms, "This is who I am."

"Call it whatever you want, but it needs to change. Now." His knuckles were white around his prison's bars.

Buffy turned away from him, trying to calm down. She didn't know why she was angry, and she knew that Angelus's threats were not without promise. There was no reason for her to cause herself that much pain over Cordelia's sexual exploits, no matter how disturbing they might be.

She could put herself in Cordelia's shoes in a way. She'd done a number of things with men that she hadn't wanted her friends to know about. They never found out about Angelus; they had found out about Spike. They'd been too comfortable with it. She had thought they'd find her repulsive, but they were compassionate and understanding.

Perhaps that's what Cordelia was feeling. The need to be made to feel ashamed for what she'd done. Perhaps that was why she'd propositioned Angelus.

"Did she say anything else?" Buffy said in a quiet voice, one that Angelus would assume as submissive, not thoughtful.

"Insulted my reputation, threatened me with a soul," he said casually, also calming down.

"Threatened you?" she turned back around, concerned.

"She said her little show was a last ditch effort. Now they want to bring their hero back," he snickered.

"You don't believe her?" she furrowed her brow.

"I doubt very strongly her little stunt was the A.I. team's idea. Squirt would never stand for his Mrs. Robinson bumping uglies with the big bad," he let go of the bars and rested his hands on top of his head as he let out a little laugh.

She shook her head, "And if it was? If they _are _planning on putting your soul back?"

"They're not," he demanded.

With a heavy sigh, she threw her arms out to her sides. "Well, great, I hope you enjoy your permanent preventable imprisonment," she shrugged, feeling a slight lightness evident in her voice.

"How alliterative you are when you're fearing for my life!" he smiled at her, hearing her readiness to weep for him.

"What am I supposed to do, Angelus?" one solitary tear left her eye and fell just a bit, before she quickly wiped it away.

He shook his head, "Look, if you're so upset about it, talk them out of it. You're the Slayer." There was a hint of laughter in his voice, "They respect you."

Running a hand through her hair, she felt her eyelids get very heavy. There was no fight left in her to argue or cry or discuss Cordelia's sex life. "I'm tired," she whispered. He laughed softly, almost gently. She found he enjoyed her most when her sentences were short. "But I can't sleep."

"I guess we're finished with this discussion?" he crossed his arms in what seemed like a fatherly way. "Go get some shut eye, Buff."

Perhaps it was her tired brain or vulnerable heart that made her whine softly, "I wish you could hold me."

He laughed again, still gentle, not meant to be mocking exactly, but with a distinct sense of condensation. Spike would never have laughed at her like that. "I'll hold you soon, dear," it sounded like a threat. He pronounced "hold" and "dear" too strongly. But she knew it was the closest thing to a loving sentiment that she would ever be able to pry from his cold, smirking lips. She gave him a tearful smile and nod, before climbing the basement stairs and closing the door behind her.

* * *

AN: Longer than I'd thought it would be too. Just so you know, if you're following with the show...this is right before the whole Priestess deal, then his soul is missing. Plus we still have Lilah, Faith, and maybe even Willow to add to the mix. Please tell me what you think...

Oh, and due to many people's request-- he will be getting out of the cage, and he will be let out by Buffy, and she will know he is still evil. Just patience...


	8. Irksome Delight

A/N: Okay, so I just vaguely figured out the real plot to this story, so I do now know where I'm going. Hopefully, nobody noticed before that I really kind of didn't. Anyhow, if any of you were worried, put your minds at ease. There is a method to the madness. Enjoy...

* * *

"We aren't getting anywhere."

The whole group had assembled in Angel's office to discuss what their next strategic move against the forming apocalypse should be. They were all quiet and disheartened, everyone having a horrible few days. Wesley, especially, was angry.

"We brought Angelus forth to get information out of him," he reminded everyone. "And so far, all the information he's given us has been information about our personal lives." He shot a not very discrete look at Fred, who resisted the automatic blush that graced her cheeks and looked away, toward Gunn. Wesley sighed, "I think we should put Angel's soul back."

Cordelia flinched slightly; only Buffy noticed. "Wes," she crossed her arms over her chest, "It was your idea to bring Angelus out."

Wesley nodded, "Yes, it was. And I think we may have overestimated our powers of coercion. It seems none of us is able to get Angelus to share what he knows." He shot a pointed look towards Buffy, whose sole purpose had been exactly that.

"If he knows anything," Connor mumbled, almost defensive.

Buffy was in a bit of a panic. She couldn't rightly say that she didn't want them to put Angel's soul back, yet she absolutely could not stand around while they took Angelus away from her again. It was the logical thing to do; if not for her moral discrepancy, she probably would have suggested it days ago. "Well," she tried to form a coherent defense. "Where exactly would we be if we brought Angel back? I mean, you guys must have brought Angelus out, because you had exhausted every other option. If we undo that, aren't you all right back where you started?"

Gunn sighed, "That's true." Buffy inwardly jumped for joy. "Without Angelus, we're back to before, sitting there with our hands tied behind our backs, waiting for the world to end. No thank you."

"But at least we'd have Angel back," Fred countered. "If the end of the world is coming, I'd rather have Angel here to protect—" She stopped out of courtesy, as the pained look in Gunn's eyes was hurting them all. "I…I didn't mean you wouldn't be able to, I just…" she mumbled and drifted off.

"It wouldn't be a terrible thing to have Angel here on the side of good," Cordelia nodded, but she looked worried.

Wesley nodded, "Agreed."

"But," Buffy spoke before she had any idea what she would say. The group turned and looked at her, expectant. She bit her lip, "If I just had a little more time." Hesitant, she continued, "Last time I spoke to him, Angelus was hinting at something. I'm not quite sure what it was, some kind of, uh, sisterhood, I think?" she lied through her teeth. "I just, I need a little more time to figure it out. I could go talk to him again, if you want?"

Wesley wrinkled his brow, "A sisterhood?"

"He said that?" Cordelia seemed dangerously on edge.

"Uh, yeah," Buffy nodded. "Something about a bunch of witches or something who, are like, really powerful and are trying to stop that thing, that beast thing. What do you call it?"

"The Beast," Cordelia answered dryly.

"Right," Buffy smiled. "They're trying to stop that. So, I thought we could, you know, team up with them. Maybe they know something we don't?"

They all nodded slowly. Wesley crossed his arms over his chest, "Why didn't you mention any of this before?"

Good question. Buffy's eyes grew wide and her voice got higher, "I wasn't sure about it. I mean, he only hinted at it; you know how it is with him. And I didn't want to get everyone's hopes up prematurely, but, I mean, we should definitely keep Angelus around a little longer, just in case it really is something."

Cordelia seemed rather pleasant to the idea. "Well, that's great, Buffy. Good work. We'll keep him around longer, then, and soon we'll have some answers."

And so it was decided. Angelus would remain soulless for as long as Buffy could make it sound like the right thing to do. The only trouble was, the two of them would now have to invent a Wiccan sisterhood bent on destroying the Beast.

"Great," Buffy sighed. "I guess, I'll, um, talk to him now, then." She knew she had to do something soon to get Angelus out of the dangerous situation he was in. There were a few options: steal his soul… find a key… pretend he's Angel? None of them were fantastic. She needed more time to think. Her only hope was Angelus' irksome delight in covenants. Maybe he knew of some sisters there?

* * *

A/N: Turns out he has heard of this group of girls who don't particularly like the way he lives his life: The Svea Priestesses! But, gee, I sure hope no one tells the Beast about them and has them die needlessly. But who would do that; it's not like some kind of Beast Master has found his/her way into the A.I. team and is using everything they say to his/her advantage. That would be crazy!

Ain't sarcasm fun. Next chapter should be a hoot. Angelus listing all the groups of women he feels could dislike the Beast...it's kind of a long list.


	9. Truth in Advertising

AN: Geez, I am sorry this took so long. My only excuse is that I just moved to college, so I had to get used to writing in a dorm room…? But whatever, no excuse is a good excuse, and thank you to BgirlAngelSpike for waking me up by telling me I had not updated in five months…jeez, I suck...

Heh…so, self-loathing rant over. Please enjoy…

"Draconis?"

"Yeah," Angelus nodded, staring off into space, trying to remember. "They had this whole scale fetish."

"Scales?" she snickered.

"Yeah. They collected them, then hung them up all around their camp. I think they were supposed to be, like...tiny...shields?"

"Are you making this up?"

"No," he shrugged. "Some people are into some weird shit, little lady. Last I heard they were hanging around California. They're nomads, though, and that was a good hundred years ago."

Buffy shook her head and continued pacing nervously, "I don't care if they're local. I just need a name that they can find in their books and spend a good year or so looking for."

"Well, I've got plenty of names," he shrugged.

She nodded enthusiastically, "Just throw 'em out. I'll write them down." She held up her little notepad and pen.

"Kay, well, there's the Circle of Iray. They thought eating vampire hair was some kind of good luck ritual," he shrugged.

"Ew," she shook her head, writing down the name, then her head shot up in confusion, "Why vampire hair?"

"Well," he tilted his head to one side. "I think they thought of it as regenerative."

"But hair is dead. It's always dead, even when you're living. Why would dead hair from a dead body regenerate anything?"

He paused for a moment. "Or maybe they just like the way it tastes?"

"Ugh," she shook her head. "So that's I-R…"

"A-Y, if I remember correctly," he nodded. "Or you could spell it wrong and earn yourself a few more weeks of research."

Her eyes went wide, "I could! Aw, perfect!"

"You're welcome," he shrugged.

"I'm doing this to help you. I'm not thanking you for saving your own life," she rolled her eyes. "Next?"

"Well," he sighed deep in thought. "There was the Sanctuary of Areal. I slaughtered a few of them. They were pretty pissed. That one was actually an accident."

"An accident? You tripped and fell on a few of their jugulars?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Something like that," he smirked.

"Whatever," she wrote down the name. "Next?"

"Eh, there's the Svea Priestesses. They tried to banish me in the late 18th century."

"Why?"

He held his hands out to his sides, "I'm evil?"

"Right, of course," she shook her head. "Any others?"

"Oh, there're tons of others. But if you want one that'll keep 'em on their toes, may I suggest the Coven of Capaighe back in good ol' Ireland. Crazy bunch of ladies up there. They were planning on harvesting this guy's dick, but then I ate him, and they got all upset. Ran me outta town with literal pitchforks, as if there weren't a thousand other harvestable dicks walking around," he laughed, shaking his head. "You know, I wouldn't mind another round with those ladies—certainly entertaining."

Buffy tried her hardest to fight the smile that broke out on her businesslike face, "You know I have never walked away from a conversation with you that did not leave me seriously emotionally disturbed?"

He smirked, "Truth in advertising, love."

"This is just wasting more time," Connor's voice practically yelled before throwing the door open. The entire team followed in behind him, looking rather stern and frustrated--a look they had worn for a while. Buffy turned quickly to face them, putting her serious Slayer face back on.

"Hey, there," she could not help the small smirk that danced its way onto her face. "Something wrong?"

Wesley looked nervous, "We're sorry, Buffy. Connor was just, er, curious about any progress you might have made?"

"Patience," Angelus shook his head and spoke quietly. "I can never teach 'em patience."

"You want to talk about this right here?" Buffy bit her lip. She hadn't decided which of the groups Angelus had mentioned sounded the most relevant. "Right now?"

"Time is, sort of, of the essence, Buffy," Cordelia crossed her arms. "You know? End of the world? Kind of urgent."

Angelus sighed and turned away from the group and laid his back against the bars of his cell.

Cordelia narrowed her eyes, "Are we boring you?"

"Yes, you are," Angelus threw over his shoulder. "You're unnervingly boring."

Buffy suppressed the tiny laugh that threatened to erupt at Cordelia's slightly miffed expression.

"Well?" Connor looked to Buffy with expectant, raised eyebrows.

"Well," Buffy pulled at the bottom of her top, almost insulted by Connor's impatient, judgmental tone. "Uh, Angelus mentioned a, uh, a coven…"

"And they can help us fight the Beast?" Fred nodded enthusiastically.

"Uh, yeah," she nodded, trying to remember the name of any of the witches Angelus had named. "The, uh, Savea Priestesses."

"Svea," Angelus shot too quickly for the rest of them to hear.

"The _Svea_ Priestesses," she corrected herself before anyone could catch her. "They, um, they're a group of wiccans who are fond of…banishing?"

"Vanishing?" Fred furrowed her brow.

"Banishing," Connor grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Well, great," Cordelia shrugged. "Where are we supposed to find these Svea Priestesses?"

"Ah," Buffy nodded slowly, trying to think of an answer for that. Had Angelus mentioned in which country he'd met them? "Well, they move around a lot, but I'm sure if we just look for them—"

"On it," Gunn gave one nod of his head and left the basement.

"Oh, research," Fred sighed heavily. "I was hoping there'd be more research," her voice was low and sarcastic, an odd sound for Fred to make.

"Come on," Wesley could not help the little smile that played on his lips as he ushered the rest of the group out, placing a hand on the small of Fred's back. Buffy noticed that with distinct curiosity.

"What was that?" she said as soon as the door was closed.

"That was depression," Angelus nodded, turning back around to face her, "Times five."

"No, did you see Wesley's hand?" she got excited, like she used to at Hemery when she had a piece of juicy gossip to share. "He was all over that Fred girl. Isn't she with Gunn?"

He shrugged, disinterested, "She used to be, anyway."

"You think they broke up?" she gasped.

"If they haven't yet, they will soon," he rolled his eyes. "Fred's always had a thing for the short, aging, and bookish. Gunn's not really her type. He's more into hitting things."

"He just volunteered to research," she pointed to where they'd stood.

"No, he volunteered to get out of here." Angelus's face twisted into an over exaggerated pout. "I'm afraid he doesn't like me very much."

"Why?" Buffy pulled a chair out and sat. "You didn't by any chance have something to do with this whole Fred-Gunn-Wesley love triangle, did you?"

He gasped in mock horror, "Of course not! I'm shocked you could even think such a thing."

She laughed and sighed, "Well, I guess I should help them with the research."

"Hmm," he narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, I just tried to imagine you with a book and found it rather difficult," he smiled.

"Fuck you," she laughed. "I read all the time."

"I'm afraid _Gossip Girl_ doesn't count, love," he teased her.

Buffy sighed, sticking her tongue out at him. This felt better; they were more like themselves. This was the Angelus she had longed for for so long, the one who could lovingly joke with her. It was how it should be.

"Buffy!" Cordelia's voice surprised them, and Buffy instantly stood, unprepared for another act.

"Cordelia?" she turned to see her standing at the top of the staircase. "Is something wrong?"

Again, Angelus turned away from Cordelia. No one missed it. "No," she smiled her new, secretive smile. "I just wanted to tell you, Wesley thinks he knows some stuff about this Svea thing, so we're gonna start making phone calls. He even said there's a chance that the whole lot of them are right here in LA; isn't that great?! So, as soon as we get an address, we're gonna head out and see if they'll help us."

"Wow," Buffy breathed, unsteady. She was expecting it to take the team weeks to find that sort of information. "That's unbelievable."

"Right?" she her eyes grew wide, like a cat cornering its prey. "And whether we get help from the Sveas or not, the next step will be getting Angel back. I mean, there would be not point…" she let Buffy finish her thought. There would be no point to keeping Angelus around if the information he had was of no use to them.

Her heart skipped a tiny beat, and she resisted the strong urge to glance at Angelus, unsure if he had reacted at all. "That's…" she shook her head. "Wow."

"Yeah," she smiled. "So, if you want to, you can come up and help us make calls, unless you have something to do down here…?"

There was a lump in her throat the size of a small melon. If what Cordelia said actually happened, then this would be her last time to see Angelus, possibly forever. "No," she said, not letting a bit of her emotion spill into her voice. "I'll help you all make calls. We're…we're done here."

Cordelia waited for Buffy, who made a very slow procession up the stairs, afraid to look at Angelus, worried that the last time she would see him would be in distress. Just before the door shut behind her, though, out of sheer desperation, she glanced back at the face she knew so well. It was positively stoic, a straight mouth, no glint in the eyes, nothing to indicate he had heard a word.

AN: My favorite part? When Fred mishears 'banishing', cause when it happened in the show I had a freaking laugh attack, because it was so unneeded. Like, it wasn't a funny misunderstanding and it was never spoken of again. I just don't see why it was written in. It cracked me up...

If you're following along, next we find out that Angel's glowy soul-in-a-jar has gone missing! Holy Surprises Batman! (just so ya know, I did outline this whole story, so I know where I'm going. In fact, I wrote the last chapter of it. It's banging, if I do say so myself. I'm estimating 20 chapters in all)

...reviews...?


	10. So Sure

AN: Ooooooh! You want me to _update_? I'm so sorry. I must have misunderstood. I thought you said, "Do your homework and make friends." God, I am so embarrassed. Okay, I'll update.

…………………………………………………

Death was her gift.

This, of course, was nothing new to Buffy. For years she had been trying desperately to translate the cryptic message of her spirit guide. She had taken comfort in the answer being her death was a gift to Dawn, who would continue to live if Buffy died. But when she'd been resurrected, that idea had all been shot to Hell. So she'd worked with Spike, her drunken English nightly tutor, to work out a meaning that was comfortable to her. They'd established that she killed things to save other people, and therefore, death was her gift. Neither of them believed it, of course, but it helped her sleep at night…well, not exactly sleep…

Angelus had not heard; she eyed him leaning against the far wall of his cage. She would not tell him.

The Svea Priestesses were dead. It had baffled the group. Connor vomited. Buffy cried.

"You didn't kill them," were Angelus's only words of comfort.

"I might as well have," she whispered.

She was not used to seeing dead bodies. It was still shocking and painful. It reminded her of her mother. It was easier when things turned to dust.

Guilt hung off her for picking that family out of the list she'd been given, and confusion made her dizzy. Who would have killed a group of Wiccans who were not doing anything to offend anyone? Could they really have been fighting against the Beast? What irony. What sick, demented irony.

"I don't see why you're so upset," Angelus shrugged. "This means two big wins for our side."

His soul was missing. It was odd how many things could be done with a soul. One could be lost, returned, bottled up in a jar, stolen, or destroyed. Buffy missed the days when souls were intangible and could mean whatever one wanted them to mean.

"They're not wins," she sneered, "They're coincidences. I don't like coincidences. They're unpredictable. You can't fight a war with luck."

He smiled, "Since when are we fighting a war? There are six pathetic heroes scurrying around the big bad's table, begging for scraps up there." He pointed above him. "They've lost their only lead and have no way of getting their precious General Faggot back."

She hated when he mocked Angel. She never said anything.

"Why are you so fucking weepy?" he smacked one of the bars lightly, making a low, ringing noise. "This is happy time."

"A family is dead, and your soul is missing," she spat. "We don't know who killed them or why, and we have no idea who took your soul or what they plan to do with it, and what if—"

"What if what?" he snarled, moving towards her. "What if the Slayer stays down in a basement blubbering about all the things wrong with her life—"

"I'm trying to help you!" she said.

"Well, if I may be blunt, you kind of suck at it,"

"All right, great then! Help yourself! Stay in the big cage! Call me up when you get your soul back and wanna cuddle," she turned, as if she could leave.

"Fine," he smirked. "Say hi to Spike for me."

She had gotten as far as the bottom of the staircase when she stopped, "If they can't bring Angel back, they'll kill you, Angelus."

"They won't," he said.

"How can you be so sure?" She spoke of many more situations than the current one. He was always, always so sure.

"They still haven't gotten what they want from my head," he smiled at her as she turned back around.

"The Beast," she whispered.

"The Beast," he rolled his eyes. "It's a little sad. That was really the best name they could come up with?"

"Do you really know something?" she shrugged.

"Of course," I crossed his arms over his chest. "I know lots of things. About the Beast in particular, I know what all of them could know if they had working neurons."

"What?" she came closer.

He explained that he'd met the Beast once before, back in the 18th century. She cringed at his jokes about bodies, then looked down when he mentioned his hatred of partnership—Spike's name still fresh in her head. He explained that Darla had come to his rescue, and he had not seen or heard from the creature since. "The Beast I knew was big into smash and slaughter. Had the brawn to be really good at it too, but the big picture—not his strong point."

"So he got smarter?" she shrugged, unimpressed.

He laughed, "Still so young."

"I didn't hear anything particularly funny," she spat.

"Things do not change, Buffy. Of course, they may appear to, but you should never be fooled. A whore can cross her legs and brush her hair, but she'll always be a whore."

"How insightful."

"The Beast did not get smarter. Why would he? _He_ had no problem with his intellect."

"So then how did he figure out how to take the sun away, Angelus?"

He smiled, enjoying her anger as one enjoys watching a cat play with a ball of yarn. "Someone else must be pulling all the strings. Someone bigger, more powerful, more vicious."

Buffy shivered. _Someone close_, her mind whispered to her.

"The Beast has a boss," he nodded once.

An uncomfortable laughing bark escaped from her throat at the image of the Beast in a business suit, punching a time card.

His smile faded, but she did not notice. He often wondered if she was slowly becoming insane. What a beautiful lunatic she would make…

"A boss," she repeated, laying a hand gently—innocently—on her neck. "I should tell the team."

"Now why would you go and do a thing like that?" he tilted his head to the side, as if he were speaking to a small child.

She shook her head, "So that they keep you—"

"Patience, dear," he cooed. "If you give it all up on the first date, he's never going to call you again. We'll just give them a little taste—minimal tongue."

She could not help the chill that ran down her back when he said 'tongue'. "Oh, right. Okay. Just…just a little bit."

"That's it," he nodded then laughed, "God, Buff, please, go upstairs and give it a pinch. You're so tense."

She thought about smiling and coming back at him with some clever retort. "Sorry," she whispered.

He shook his head, "Of course you are."

"I am sorry," she nodded. "I'm sorry for being so…unhelpful. I just…I didn't mean to make you so upset, and I didn't mean to get upset. I just worry." He didn't say a thing. She was venturing too far away from their uniqueness. This was a conversation for people named Jim and Sue. It felt strange and out of place. "I wasn't expecting to feel as…as sure as I do." She was so tired. Words seemed to be coming out of her mouth without permission from her brain. "But I feel so…right…about, you know, us—and I just…I don't know what I'd do if—"

"Shh!" he put a hand up and moved nothing but his eyelids.

"What?" Buffy whispered. "What's wrong?"

"We're not alone," he nearly growled. "Seems there's a fly on the wall."

Instantly, she turned to look at the camera, which was recording without sound—the team was now just making sure Angelus did not escape; they did not think he had anything helpful to say. "Who?" she barely breathed. _Who else?_ Her mind whispered.

"Sorry, sweetie," a stranger's voice hit her ears from behind, and she turned swiftly to find a woman with brown hair and a bloody shirt. "Not quite," she smiled. "I don't do a lot of cavorting with the white hats upstairs."

"Who are you?" she shook her head.

"Buffy," Angelus was gripping the bars of his cell rather tightly, "I'm so very pleased to introduce you to Lilah Morgan, former business suit wearing bitch of the corporate elite."

"What?" she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm a lawyer, hon," she smiled and turned to Angelus. "You never cease to surprise."

"It's odd. She speaks as if we've met," he smirked.

"Well, I know so much about you, I feel like we're practically…what's the word? Partners?"

He chuckled outright, "Only in your deepest darkest dreams, baby. You know, the ones with your cousin and your mother and the neighborhood dog."

"You're a lawyer?" Buffy cut in, putting a hand up.

"Former," she was still smiling. "And I wouldn't be so ready to brush me aside—"

"Too easy," he smiled.

"Seems I know things that you wouldn't want me sharing with others."

"You don't know anything."

"Angelus," Buffy whispered.

Lilah smiled, "The Scourge of Europe and the Vampire Slayer. You two just weren't satisfied with the Capulets and Montagues?"

"They would never believe you," he shrugged.

She laughed, "You overestimate them. They're hopeless. They'd love any excuse give up. The way I see it? The Slayer just saying 'fuck all' and sleeping with the enemy? I'd say that's as good a reason as any to send the troops home. Maybe Cordy could get something booked now that natural light is extinct."

He waited a moment, and Buffy stared at him.

"Partners?" Lilah smirked.

"Angelus," Buffy whispered, uneasy.

"Partners," he said.

"Shit!" they heard from upstairs, then the door opened, and the cavalry stormed in.

…………………………………………………………………………………

AN: Truly, I am really sorry it has taken me this long to update. I've been writing a lot, but it hasn't been fanfiction. I'm writing a book and a bunch of essays for my classes (one about the recent trend in books, TV, and movies to make vampires good—and Angel was a part of it). Also, as I am sure most of you know, writing is REALLY BAD when it is forced, and I don't want to write things that are really bad, so I don't force myself. If you need something to read, I recommend all things by Margaret Atwood. How have I possibly rambled this long? Wow, okay…

I will update. I promise. I wrote the last chapter to this story, and I really like it, so I know I'll finish it. Thanks for sticking with it. Let me know what you think.


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